Chapter Forty-Three: Tit for Tat

“Brother Yang, who is this?” Long Teng asked curiously.

Yang Meng shrugged. “A fellow inmate I got to know inside,” he replied, gesturing to the police station behind him.

Long Teng looked Li Xiaoqing up and down. “Brother Yang really lives up to his name—irresistible charm.”

Yang Meng shot him a glare. “Cut the flattery. Listen, Li Xiaoqing, I’m a man of my word. I promised you a drink and a ride on my motorcycle, no problem. But in this weather, you’ll freeze in those clothes. We’re heading to the city hospital now. If you want to come, you can ride in his car.”

Li Xiaoqing shook her head vigorously. “I want to ride the motorcycle! You’re barely dressed and you’re not cold. I’m wearing a coat, I’m fine!”

Yang Meng finally understood how Li Xiaoqing’s father must feel—she really couldn’t tell good advice from bad. He might look like he wasn’t wearing much, but he was protected from head to toe, every inch sealed tight in leather. Did she think her faux fur coat could compare? And beneath that, she was wearing just a little dress?

Riding a motorcycle in that outfit in this weather? If she didn’t end up frozen stiff, he’d eat his hat.

He grinned. “All right, you can ride with me. Long Teng, see you at the hospital!”

Li Xiaoqing cheered and hopped onto the motorcycle.

Yang Meng watched her excitement and smirked. Just wait—don’t blame me when you’re frozen stiff.

He took off his riding backpack and pulled out another helmet, handing it to Li Xiaoqing, and asked her to help carry the bag.

“See you at the hospital, Master Long,” Yang Meng called out, waved, shifted gears, revved the engine, and shot off down the street.

He intended to teach Li Xiaoqing a lesson, so he drove fast. The cold wind bit even harder at speed. Li Xiaoqing clung to him for warmth, but her legs were trembling uncontrollably from the cold.

By the time they reached the hospital, Li Xiaoqing was so numb she couldn’t get off the bike without help. Yang Meng had to lift her off—her legs were frozen stiff.

He took off her helmet. “How does it feel?”

Li Xiaoqing blinked. Even with the helmet on, her lips had turned white. Yang Meng smiled, “Told you—you’d freeze in those clothes, didn’t I?”

“I’m not cold at all!” Li Xiaoqing insisted stubbornly.

Yang Meng laughed. “Great. Later, I’ll take you on a mountain run—faster, windier. Are you afraid?”

“Of course not!” Li Xiaoqing gritted her teeth. “I’m perfectly comfortable! When I have money, I’ll buy a motorcycle and make you eat my dust!”

Yang Meng burst out laughing and gave her a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit! Come on, I have business to take care of.” He put her helmet away, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and headed for the hospital entrance.

Li Xiaoqing asked curiously, “What about your friend? Aren’t you going to wait for him?”

Yang Meng shrugged. “I’m in a hurry, just need to get things done. Huh? Isn’t someone waiting for us?”

“Where?” Li Xiaoqing asked.

Yang Meng pointed to the hospital entrance. “See? Standing right there.”

Standing at the entrance was Long Xixiang, dressed as always in a women’s trench coat and high heels.

Li Xiaoqing gasped, “No way, handsome, don’t tell me that’s the woman you mentioned.”

“That’s her. What’s wrong?” Yang Meng replied.

Li Xiaoqing tilted her head, sizing up Yang Meng. “Hey, are you secretly a rich heir? Or maybe… a kept man?”

Yang Meng was taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

Li Xiaoqing looked as if she’d thought it through carefully. “I don’t know much about motorcycles, but yours is clearly expensive. That’s not proof by itself. But did you see the scarf around that woman’s neck? That’s an Hermès ‘Neon’ scarf, and it sells for four hundred and fifty thousand! I dream of owning one.”

“How much?” Yang Meng exclaimed.

Heavens! All the money he’d scraped together these past few days—conning this one and that one—would barely buy three of her scarves.

Was it really that pretty? He looked closely at the scarf around Long Xixiang’s neck. Honestly, it looked just like the cheap ones aunties held up for photos at the morning market—just a few bucks each...

Forty-five grand for that? He really didn’t understand the world of the rich.

“Listen, young lady, you’ve got the wrong idea,” Yang Meng explained. “I’m no rich heir. Last week I was delivering takeout. Now I’m just unemployed.”

But Li Xiaoqing obviously didn’t believe him. Holding her phone, she said, “I didn’t recognize your motorcycle, but I know your jacket. I just looked it up online, and it costs over a thousand!”

Yang Meng blinked. Over a thousand? That was the knockoff version. His was no high-end racing suit, but still cost tens of thousands at least.

He was a pauper who’d suddenly come into money, and the thing about poor folks was they hated being looked down on. Despite having over a million in his pocket now, he still had the instincts of a broke nobody—he wanted to show off.

But with Long Xixiang’s scarf costing forty-five grand, he decided he’d better not bother.

It just wasn’t enough to impress.

After his exclamation, Long Xixiang saw him and walked over gracefully.

Yang Meng led Li Xiaoqing toward her. “Beauty, here I am!”

Long Xixiang glanced around. “Where’s my brother?”

“Probably stuck in traffic. Motorcycles cut through, so I got here faster,” Yang Meng said. “Thank you for today!”

Long Xixiang waved her hand. “You saved my sister, so we’re even. No, no, the Long family will certainly thank you properly!”

“Oh?” Yang Meng was surprised. “So now you believe I really can save your sister? Weren’t you set on taking her abroad for medical treatment, convinced none of this was real?”

Long Xixiang gave a wry smile. “What happened that night was beyond anything I could imagine. I have no choice but to believe now.”

Yang Meng laughed. “No wonder your family wants you as their successor. You adapt a lot faster than I expected.”

Long Xixiang didn’t reply. Instead, she studied Yang Meng’s face intently.

Remembering her father’s words, she felt an inexplicable anxiety rising inside her.

Meanwhile, Li Xiaoqing pouted, feeling left out as the two chatted. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to this lady?”

Yang Meng slapped his forehead. “My mistake. Allow me: this is the stunning Long Xixiang. And this is Li Xiaoqing, my fellow inmate.”

“Boyfriend?” Long Xixiang misheard, looking at Yang Meng in confusion.

Yang Meng hurried to explain. “Not boyfriend—fellow inmate! We met at the police station just now.”

“Police station?” Long Xixiang was in the middle of shaking hands with Li Xiaoqing, but the words made her look at her differently. “No wonder you dress so boldly.”

Heaven knows, Long Xixiang didn’t have much experience with Yang Meng. Despite her father’s wishes that she get along with him, she actually had no particular fondness for him.

But seeing Yang Meng with Li Xiaoqing made her uncomfortable, as if someone was about to snatch something from her pocket. A spark of rivalry flared between her and Li Xiaoqing on the spot.

Li Xiaoqing was young but far from naive; her woman’s intuition told her Long Xixiang was already on the attack. But she was no pushover. Wearing a smile, she replied, “That’s right—we stick together through thick and thin. Life is short, you have to experience everything. Sister, you weren’t a goody-two-shoes your whole life, were you?”

Long Xixiang’s face turned green. “What do you mean, ‘all these years’? I’m only twenty-six, you know!”

But Li Xiaoqing wasn’t wrong—Long Xixiang could tell she was under twenty.

Long Xixiang’s face turned cold, but she quickly replaced it with a smile. “Little sister, that’s not quite right. Life should be vibrant, but you can’t ruin your future just for the sake of trying new things. You’re still young, and if you don’t understand that now, you’ll regret it when you’re older.”

“Regret is for the future,” Li Xiaoqing shot back. “No one knows what tomorrow holds. Why worry so much?”

Long Xixiang shook her head. “If you don’t plan ahead, trouble will find you.”

Li Xiaoqing retorted, “Youth is for being young—love boldly, chase freely. The things you’re talking about are for old people to worry about.”

Long Xixiang smiled faintly. “No matter how young you are, you’ll grow old one day. Of course, I understand where you’re coming from. I was your age once, too—always daydreaming, not very mature. But one must listen to advice. You can’t just do whatever you want. When I was little, I wanted to be a magical girl and save the world. Do you think that was possible?”

Yang Meng couldn’t figure out how the two of them had suddenly ended up at odds, sparks flying. Wasn’t this their first meeting? Could they have been rivals in a previous life?

He decided not to dwell on it. With a cheerful grin, he said, “Seeing how well you two are getting along, I’m relieved.”

Getting along? Long Xixiang and Li Xiaoqing both stared at Yang Meng in disbelief—what made him think they were getting along?

Yang Meng didn’t bother explaining. “Xixiang, I’ll leave Li Xiaoqing with you. You two go find somewhere to sit. When your sister’s okay, come up and find me.”

Long Xixiang’s eyes widened. “Sit with her? Why? I want to see my sister!”

Yang Meng leaned in and whispered, “Do you want everyone to know about your sister’s situation?”

Long Xixiang nodded. “Go ahead, then. My father and Bowen are upstairs. Little sister, there’s a café over there—shall we go sit and chat a while?”

“Gladly! I couldn’t wish for more!”